


The World Goes By

by paxnirvana



Category: One Piece
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-13
Updated: 2010-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-12 15:42:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/126474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paxnirvana/pseuds/paxnirvana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can be read as sort of a follow up to my prior S x A fic "But There Must Be Some Fire", but mainly written as a stand-alone for the Onepieceyaoi Livejournal Community's summer Lyrics Wheel Challenge. The challenge ended on September 15, 2005.  The lyrics and title of the song I was given will be listed at the end of the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The World Goes By

~*~*~*~

The taste of ash on the wind and hollow slap of waves on shattered wood fed first his sorrow, then, almost before the sorrow could register, his rage.

Smoker stood on the deck of his ship, staring at the still-smoldering wreckage of what had once been a fully-laden passenger ship, his pulse throbbing heavily in his neck, his ears blocked by the hot roar of blood. Only sixteen rescued. That left nearly one hundred unaccounted for or, most likely, dead. He could no longer hear Tashigi beside him, mouthing the rote words of reassurance and empty comfort that she felt the situation required – that the rest of the Marines were on it, would handle this, would see that it never happened again – to the frightened survivors and the uneasy sailors around them. He couldn't listen and not want to lash out in rage for the uselessness of them.

He didn't blame Tashigi for saying the words, however. She had to say them. She had to believe them. It was her nature. Her way to cope. Her way to keep a lid on an otherwise unbearable twist of reality.

There was a deep foulness lurking at the heart of the Marines of the Grand Line. Only that could explain what they had found here. A foulness leading to corruption and injustice. Because those sixteen people had tried to flee their rescue efforts at first. Not out of guilt or guile, but out of honest terror for the Marine symbol emblazoned on their sails. Most had been hauled screaming and crying from the sea, begging for mercy, begging not to be slaughtered as the rest of the passengers and crew had been.

It was more than proof enough for him.

Tashigi had drawn the full story from them finally. The Fleet's approach. The friendly hail. The boarding. Then the unexpected bloody terror had begun.

But this was no Gasparde, blatantly turning on the force that had given him his strength. This was an evil that dared to work _within_ the Marines, to undermine and corrupt all they stood for; justice and the stalwart protection of the average person.

He held his silence as the survivors were finally soothed and lead away to meals and dry clothing and medical care. That alone more than enough to tell his men how angry he was. Because what words could answer this travesty of justice? He was without any at all to convey his full outrage and horror and festering sense of betrayal over the situation.

To what depths had the Marine command finally sunk? Had the rats already taken it over from within to allow this kind of abomination to endure so long? This was not the Marine force he had once known and respected – definitely not the force he had joined.

The Shichibukai had been only the first, most obvious sign. Recruiting powerful pirates to hunt other pirates. Pardoning them of their crimes so that they could commit even more crimes, but in the name of the World Government instead. And now this… sick betrayal... this he still -- naïvely, perhaps -- hadn't been prepared for.

An _entire_ Marine fleet had done this. Culligan's Swift Arrow Fleet.

Members of his crew still worked from smallboats in the waves and wreckage beyond, struggling to find any trace of other survivors, any victim to succor. But the traitors had been thorough. There seemed to be no more left to find; only brutalized bodies and a dangerously growing number of hungry sea beasts attracted to the carnage.

He would have to give the order to depart soon, no matter how it chewed at his gut to leave without being certain all had been rescued - but his men's lives were important too.

They _couldn't_ stay much longer. Not this near the Calm Belt and the breeding ground of honest monsters. Hammer that he was, his own effectiveness was limited in what was little more than scattered wreckage and drifting flotsam now that the bulk of the other ship had sunk. If he had to, he could work it with his Moku Moku power, but he had to trust in his men as well. Give them something to do in the face of an outrage like this after learning how some of their own had turned. There'd been sick horror on their faces too, as well as a grim determination to see justice done. He had a good crew.

If his sailors could find it out there, they would take the dead ship's log back to its home port. Spread the word of its loss. Carry back the survivors. Notify next of kin. Admit how the Marines had failed yet again. And then he would hunt down and take out the offenders and restore these people's faith in the Marines. Only that would serve Justice.

Tashigi fell silent beside him at last. Waiting. Watching him. Her eyes wide, her face pale. He chewed on his long-snuffed, soggy cigars and stared out over the choppy sea, still wordless.

It was the pirates who were supposed to be the scum of the sea. The villains. The enemy. Or so he had always sworn. But not anymore. Not all of them, anyway. There were pirates who rescued princesses and their kingdoms for friendship alone. There were pirates who drove out corrupt kings from suffering nations, finally giving them a chance to rebuild. There were pirates who rescued those they should consider enemies simply because they liked them. There were pirates who fled battle with Marine fleets rather than fight -- not because they feared them, but because they didn't wish to shed unnecessary blood.

And there were pirates who teased and taunted him personally all while trying to hunt the worst of their own. Dancing freely outside the law. Doing the Shichibukai's job for them, without reward. Simply because it was _right_.

Both of them… with smiles like the one he'd seen that day 22 years ago on that platform high above the Loguetown crowd. Reckless. Accepting. Knowing.

 __

Both of them. Brothers. Both of them pirates, but confusing, infuriating pirates who would not cooperate and behave like pirates _should_.

Instead they acted in ways that made them both worthy of respect – even if they were no less annoying because they insisted they were pirates still. But not of the kind that were his sworn enemy. Neither of them the kind, as he'd thought, that had made it necessary to move his hunt beyond the scope of his commission in Loguetown; vowing to bring first one, then the other to justice.

Justice. The word burned inside his gut, and his shoulders bowed as if he could feel the weight of the characters inked on the back of his jacket grow heavier with the weight of each body that spiraled down to the sea floor from the sinking ship beyond.

 __

This was not justice. This was… callous butchery. Greed. Power abused. All of which he'd seen far too much of since returning to the Grand Line. What the hell had changed? Or had it always been this way and he'd just been too... _focused_ to see it?

His hands were clamped hard on the main rail as he stared out over the wreckage beyond, his fingers digging deep into painted wood with the inhuman strength granted him by the devil's fruit he'd eaten. Nearly splintering it with the force of his rage.

What right did a Marine fleet have to fire on a fully loaded civilian ship on only a weak _suspicion_ that a high-bounty pirate might be aboard?

What right did Marine sailors have to slaughter innocents and confiscate property in an attempt to possibly reach one guilty man?

 __

None.

That was the pirate way. Somehow Smoker's world had turned upside down after he went to Arabasta and witnessed Crocodile's fall at the hands of wanted pirates. No, it had first started to turn when he saw the echo of Gold Roger's smile on that damn Straw Hat brat's face.

He turned away from the rail at last, teeth grinding on the soggy stubs of his cigars, the bitter taste of raw tobacco and disgrace filling his mouth. Tashigi snapped to attention immediately, but even her discipline stung now.

"In ten minutes, even if they don't find the ship's log, get the rest of the men the hell out of there. We need to be underway before the big Sea Kings arrive," he said to her, frowning as he threw the mangled butts of his cigars over the side. Then he turned and moved slowly across the deck, hands thrust deep in his jacket pockets, shoulders humped. "I won't have any more dead today."

"Yes sir, I'll see to it," she said, her eyes glittering hard with answering outrage and dismay behind her glasses before they softened slightly. "Wh-where will you be, sir?"

His head jerked up. His gaze met hers firmly before he scowled and turned toward the main companionway that led into the depths of the ship. "Exactly where you think; in the brig."

~*~*~

After he reached the special cell deep in the lowest hold of the ship, he stopped outside the heavy sea-stone bars for a moment and stood with feet spread wide and arms folded over his chest and stared at the man within. This room always seemed unnaturally cool to him, possibly due to the stone's aura. The sensation was doubtless helped along by the knowledge that, in here, he too was almost merely human again. He'd sent the guards outside away to help with matters topside. They weren't really needed here. And _he_ didn't need any awkward witnesses to what he knew would likely come next.

He glared darkly at the prisoner inside the cell for another long minute in silence, still unsettled by the trend of his own thoughts.

Portgas D. Ace. Little more than a brat, but already Whitebeard's Second Unit Commander before his current age of 20. Devil Fruit user, Mera Mera type. Rising scourge of the Grand Line, known sometimes as Fire-Fist. Dark haired and dark eyed, tattooed and freckled, with a mocking smirk seemingly forever painted on his wide mouth.; a notorious wanted pirate as well as a _colossal_ pain in his ass.

But a pain in the ass who'd inexplicably turned himself in to his crew only the day before on the main dock of Seafoam Island's port city of Shimmershores. And then calmly let Smoker put him into this very sea-stone cage -- _let him._ All in an attempt to prove the truth of the information he'd brought.

Infuriating punk. He'd spared the brat the sea-stone shackles that he should be wearing in a rare moment of charity, knowing the pain of the stone's direct effect all too well himself. He still wasn't sure why. It wasn't as if Portgas didn't deserve a little pain for always getting in his way like he did.

Smoker's lip curled in a sneer noting the posture of his prisoner. He was not asleep, for once. Even though he was clearly aware of Smoker's presence, the boy still lay flat on his back on the small cot, hands folded behind his head, black hat tilted down low to cover his face. He was bare-chested, despite the chill of the cell, wearing just his usual low-slung shorts belted loosely around lean hips, the cot's thin blankets bunched beneath his shoulders as pillow instead. One booted foot lay propped across the other bent knee.

"Was it as I said?" The low, intent voice was at complete odds with the posture of careless indifference, he noted. Smoker had to bite back a furious snarl in response, even though there was no gloating or mockery in the boy's flat tone.

"Yes."

"Looks like I'm not the only Mera Mera user on this sea then, eh?"  


"Maybe," he ground out. It hadn't been fire. But fire had resulted anyway. Acid had that effect on gunpowder, Smoker knew.

"So." The black hat lifted and dark eyes met his glare steadily, still utterly at odds with the infuriatingly indolent pose. "What are you going to do with me now, Taisa? Have me gutted for exposing an unwelcome truth about your precious Marines?"

Smoker stared through the bars at the boy, his jaw clenched tight enough for teeth to ache, his pulse throbbing as fury surged. Ace waited in silence, his expression still oddly neutral. Giving him nothing to shift his fury to, despite the slightly resigned tone of the words. After a moment Smoker dropped his arms stiffly to his sides.

"No," he conceded reluctantly. "You warned me."

Ace's smile was wry and he shrugged after lifting himself up and propping himself up to lean back on his hands. "But not soon enough, I guess." His gaze stayed fixed on Smoker as he slowly lowered his brows into a frown. "Oi, you look like shit, old man."

"The delay… was my fault alone," Smoker said grudgingly, his own gaze unwavering, one hand fisting around the key in his pocket as he ignored the personal observation. That fault was what gnawed at him the most. That he'd ignored the truth staring him in the face and discounted the urgency of Ace's warning simply because the man was an admitted pirate and therefore an enemy of the Marines.

No not simply because of that. No small part of it had had to do with the resentment he felt for the seemingly effortless way this boy could get under his skin. Challenging him. Making him aware of things that he should never have been aware of, at least when it came to this pirate brat. Needs he'd thought discarded long ago.

So he'd thrown the him ass-over-hat into this cell as soon as he'd shown up on his ship, bold as brass and full of dire, disturbing stories about rogue Marines. Until Tashigi had pointed out that Ace hadn't resisted at all. And had come to them with the information. Only then had he considered taking the warning seriously – but too late.

So in the end, innocent lives had been lost. Because for once he'd followed the rules.

And now maybe a not-so-innocent life too. If he followed the rules again.

"Why did you come to me in the open like that, you fool?" he said, voice a tight snarl.

The boy shrugged again, but carefully, his gaze half masked beneath his hat. "Because I knew there wasn't much time. I didn't have a Log Pose for the ambush island or I would have just gone and taken care of it myself -- but also because I thought you'd want to know." Ace's quiet, well-thought response just drove the nail of guilt deeper into Smoker's mind.

Grim, he yanked the cell's key out of his pocket. Fitted it to the lock and wrenched the door open wide, hands stinging after even that brief a touch against pure sea-stone. Ace was already on his feet, loose-armed and ready for him when he stalked inside.

Walking into that cell was like falling into the deepest depths of the sea, crushing and cold. He ignored the sensation, reached out and cupped the boy's throat with one hand, thumb pressing hard beneath the faintly pointed chin as he forced the boy's head up and back. The other clamped around an upper arm to hold him in place. But Ace made no attempt to move away. Smoker glared into eyes gone half-lidded at his touch and then dragged him close enough to feel a hint of the unnatural heat that still poured from the boy's body despite the oppressive aura of the sea-stone sheathing the walls around them.

"Stupid brat. You don't have any reason to trust me. Why did you…?" He bit the question off, shaking slightly. From rage. It was _rage_. Not regret for what the spirit of his duty demanded. And certainly not longing. No matter how exhilarating it felt to be this close to the boy again.

"Hey, you're not so bad -- for a Marine." A strong hand reached up and circled his wrist beneath the cuff of his jacket. Held on, but didn't attempt to push him away. Then the boy's voice dropped nearly to a whisper, laced with something he didn't want to hear from him this way: guilt. "It was all I could do."

The words hit him like a gut punch. Then his other arm was clamping around the boy's back, hauling him close. He found the wide mouth already open beneath his, covered it with lips hard and bitter, and savaged it. Ace surged against him, undaunted by his rage. Worked himself even closer, low sounds coming from deep in his throat. Pressing them bare chest to bare chest. Lean arms sliding around his waist under the jacket, angular hips rising close into answering heat.

Racing blood still pounded through his veins, but somehow rage had already transmuted undeniably to want. A sharp sound died at the back of his throat as his mind spun. But he didn't have time for this… couldn't let it interfere further…

Growling, Smoker scraped his hand back away from the boy's jaw into his hair, knocking the hat free so it fell down the lean back, only to be caught short in its fall by the leather thong snapping tight around the boy's neck, tangling in the heavy beads he wore. He bent him back over his arm to little resistance. Sucked harder at tongue and lips and the wet, urgent heat of the depths of the boy's mouth as if he could draw Ace's fire inside of him to warm the icy chill that had started inside him from first confirmation of the attacker's identity.

Captain Culligan was a dead man, he vowed silently. No trial involved. None was needed for a pure treason like this.

 __

Or for the treason of fraternization…? a part of him whispered.

He tore his mouth from Ace's, hearing the gasping suck of breaths into the boy's lungs echo in synch with his own.

"You're with me," Smoker said, voice harsh, rasping, dangerous. "We're taking them out."

Ace's eyes gleamed bright beneath heavy lids for a moment, answering his fervor. The freckled cheeks beneath were faintly flushed, the now-swollen mouth hanging open as he panted lightly for breath. But then his gaze shuttered, shifted away. "I don't take your orders. My captain is…"

"No, Portgas," he snarled, cutting the hated name off sharply before it could be said, fisting his hand even tighter in messy black hair. "Now you _are_ _mine_." He bent over close, wrenching the boy's head to the side with the grip on his hair and letting his breath wash over those damp, open lips again, his own gaze narrowed furiously. "You walked into this cage yourself, brat; that makes you mine as long as you're here."

A shudder rippled through the lean body. He felt the heat of the gaze that was hidden beneath nearly-closed lids, but could read nothing there. After a long, taut moment the lips that hung a teasing breath away from his curved wryly.

"'S not enough, old man."

He had to fight back a surge of something that felt like pure hate. Managed to keep his expression stony somehow. "You get to keep on living afterwards, _pirate,_ " he ground out even as he heard a low, throaty laugh. No trace of fear in it at all.

"Well, hey then, since you asked so nicely…" Ace drawled, letting one of the hands that had somehow come to lay flat against the small of Smoker's back shift down the line of tense muscle until fingertips were teasing beneath the top edge of Smoker's belt. "What _exactly_ do you want me to do?"

If he'd had cigars in his mouth he would have bitten them in half. As it was, Ace's lips made a convenient chew toy. He ravaged the boy's mouth again, tongue thrusting brutally deep for a few breathless seconds. Then he pulled away, frowning darkly into the other's face. Ace's eyes were closed all the way now, his cheeks flushed red, the arms around him holding on even tighter.

"You're going to help me take down Culligan, brat." Smoker had to pause to clear his voice of an odd huskiness with a sharp cough. "He's got a devil fruit power too; Isan Isan. Do it and I'll let you out of this cell."

Ace pried his eyes open slowly. An equally slow smile bloomed on blurred lips. "You're asking me to work with you?"

Smoker scowled. Wondered briefly if lack of oxygen had affected the brat's brain or something. "Don't be an idiot."

The smile turned into a definite smirk. "So, do I get a ring?" Dark eyes flashed at him from beneath flickering lids.

Smoker snarled at that, frowning. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Nothing." The smirk only widened. "Okay, old man. I agree. I'll help you take your renegade out."

~*~*~

Smoker stalked back up to the deck with a still smugly grinning Ace hard on his heels, passing several slack-jawed and startled members of his crew along the way. But no one questioned him. If Portgas was walking free, they knew it had to have been his decision, after all.

It felt decidedly odd to have the pirate at his back. But not quite in the way he'd expected it to feel. Somehow he knew in his gut that Ace wouldn't use this chance to attack him or to try to escape. Not until Culligan was down, anyway. Instead what bothered him was how, in a way, it felt like it did to have Tashigi behind him backing him up: right.

He stopped by the railing he'd splintered with his grip earlier, satisfied to see that the last of the smallboats were finally returning to the ship. Ominous were the signs of the large humped backs of sea kings circling in the choppy waters beyond. It was getting too dangerous to linger here any longer.

"Smoker-taisa!" Tashigi called with a gasp, stumbling across the deck toward them as she pushed her glasses up her nose. "Y-you let him out?"

"Good afternoon to you, Tashigi-kun!" Ace said brightly, bowing low to her. She just blinked at him in startled shock. Smoker shot him a quelling glare over his shoulder as he pulled out a new pair of cigars and examined them for damage.

"That's 'san' to you, punk," he snarled, biting off the ends of the cigars one after the other and spitting the bits over the side before sticking them into the corner of his mouth. Ace looked up and winked broadly before doffing his hat to the still gaping Sergeant Major.

"Forgive my rudeness, Tashigi-san," the brat said, grinning wide, his eyes dancing with amusement. "But I've just been recruited into the Marines and I'm not quite sure how to address everyone yet. Except for the cranky old fart over there, of course." Ace jerked a thumb back toward Smoker and both his cigars lit themselves with small flashes of flame.

"Shut up, Portgas." Smoker snarled through the fresh white smoke, sucking it into his lungs automatically but making no other reaction to the showy display except to slip his box of matches back into his pocket. "Tashigi, make sure to issue this ass a uniform shirt to cover that damn tattoo before I lose my lunch."

"A _uniform_ shirt, sir?" she said weakly, her bemused gaze bouncing between the two of them.

Smoker clamped his teeth tight on his paired cigars then bared them. "He's going to help us put down Culligan."

She blinked once and straightened up, her gaze firming almost instantly in understanding. Bright girl. That was one reason why he relied on her so much.

"Make sure the rest of the crew gets the word, Tashigi." He shot Ace a dark sidelong glare. The brat just beamed back at him like an idiot, eyes curved up happily as if he didn't have a thought in that devious head of his. "Just until Culligan."

She nodded sharply, her own eyes dancing slightly now for some reason, making him frown. "Yes sir!"

Tashigi turned her attention to Seto, the officer of the deck, who had come up on her other side and was speaking to her in hushed tones after a quick, suspicious glance at the pirate. After a moment, Seto moved away, shouting orders that sent men scrambling up the masts in preparation for setting sail.

As the crew set to work, Ace moved closer to Smoker, leaning back on his elbows against the white-painted wood of the railing as his gaze darted around the ship. Lounging there as if he weren't a notorious pirate stuck on a Marine ship in the middle of the unforgiving sea. Looking oddly young and guileless for the moment, just a young man curious about his surroundings.

From the corners of his eyes, Smoker watched the pirate examine the workings of his ship and crew in silence until there was some excited shouting from the aft deck that distracted the both of them. The last of the smallboats had been hauled aboard. Crew moved quickly to lash them down. After a few minutes, a young, distinctly hollow-eyed sailor in diving gear approached Tashigi bearing a small oilcloth-wrapped package.

"We recovered the _Princess Petuni_ a's log book, Tashigi-socho," the boy said, his voice shaking slightly. "We c-couldn't find any more survivors though..." Just more dead, Smoker knew. Women. Children. Innocents.

"Thank you, Ichiro-kun," Tashigi said gravely, accepting the book with steady hands. Then she cradled the precious volume against her chest, her expression grim. "Well done. Make sure you and the rest of your detail get hot drinks in the galley before returning to duty. Dismissed."

The young sailor's gaze darted warily toward Ace, and then his Captain, and then back in confusion again to the lounging pirate before he saluted Tashigi and scurried away.

"A problem?" Smoker rumbled, watching his sergeant closely. He knew his men trusted and respected him, but the truth was they feared him more than a little too. Devil Fruit users often had that effect on those without the power. Which was just one more reason why Tashigi was so indispensable to him; even blatant displays of Devil Fruit powers seldom made her more than bat an eye. Beside him, Ace shifted against the railing and adjusted his hat lower over his eyes. No doubt well aware of that fact too.

Tashigi turned to him with a faintly forced smile. "Of course not, Smoker-taisa. At least, not once I get a chance to speak with the crew and explain Ace-san's new status."

He heard a crashing splash in the water not far behind him and waves rocked the ship. He didn't even bother to look around, knowing what he would see. The predators were getting bolder. And bigger. "It's more important we get underway and the hell out of here first," he muttered sourly. "Set course back to Seafoam Island. I'll take the brat out of their sight for now."

Tashigi nodded solemnly and handed him the recovered log book. "Then I'll let you take care of this as well, sir," she said, adjusting her glasses again as she turned toward the nearby officer of the deck. "You heard the Taisa. Get us underway, Seto!" she called briskly. "Understood!" was the prompt, equally brisk reply. Men sprang into action in the rigging above as the officer of the deck relayed the order to them with a bellow.

Smoker grinned around his cigars at his men's quick, professional response, then stalked off across the deck toward the main cabin. "You're with me, Portgas," he said, shooting a hard look over his shoulder at the boy. The sooner he got the potential distraction of the pirate off the deck the better. After a short but deliberate hesitation, Ace followed at a saunter, a small grin on his face. "Whatever you say, old man."

Smoker waited at the doorway to the main cabin, chewing slightly on his cigars. When Ace caught up with him, he pushed the boy sharply through the doorway ahead of him. He ignored the sudden tingle as his hand connected with that sleek, bare flesh and stepped quickly through the hatch behind him.

There was a flash of white teeth bared in a small grin as Ace shot a decidedly sultry glance back at him over his shoulder. Smoker lifted his lip in a silent, warning snarl and puffed hard on his cigars.

"Starboard side," he directed the boy when they reached the first intersection in the hallway. They walked the rest of the way in a growing kind of tension, Smoker's gaze fixed on the sway of the empty knife sheath at Ace's side rather than on the despised tattoo that spread across the lean back. The hallway listed slightly to the side after a moment indicating they were underway at last.

"That one on the left." Smoker indicated his cabin door with a wave, only to have Ace come to an abrupt stop, forcing Smoker to come to a stop as well or walk straight into him. "What the hell?"

"How about some food?" Ace asked, a brow raised, a hint of mischief around his eyes. "I seem to have missed out on the brig's fine cuisine for today."

With a snort of disgust, Smoker reached past him to open the door to his quarters himself. Then he cupped a hard hand behind the boy's neck and shoved him inside the room. "Just get in, Portgas. You'll eat later."

Ace stumbled past him gracelessly, eyes wide, mouth gaping open like a fish's in startled outrage. But then Smoker was inside the room right on his heels and closing and locking the door behind them with cool composure and Ace was turning back to face him, all shock already gone.

The pirate stepped close in one fluid move, pushing Smoker back against the door. He let himself be pushed. Let a hand take the logbook from his grasp and set it carefully on the shelf beside the door too. Then let both the boy's rough hands run unchecked up his bare chest, working their way beneath the heavy jacket until they caught on his shoulders, biting in with easy strength. A lean thigh thrust its way between his legs at the same time, riding up against his already tight groin; hot and hard and slow.

"Bastard," Ace hissed as he leaned in, eyes narrowed dangerously. "You left me down there all night. _Alone_."

"Shut it, brat," Smoker muttered, one arm closing around the boy's back to drag him even closer. He reached up and snuffed the cigars in his mouth with a surge of thick smoke from his fingertips, dropping them down into his jacket pocket afterwards for safekeeping. Then he snaked this other arm around that lean waist too and pulled Ace flush against him from knee to chest, fingers of one hand spreading wide over the boy's tight ass the better to do so. "I don't whore with prisoners."

"But I'm _still_ a prisoner," Ace gasped, chin lifting, throat bobbing hard as Smoker rocked them together.

Smoker caught his gaze. Stared deep. "Think so, do you?"

Unreadable emotions both dark and light flashed through the boy's eyes for a breathless moment before they finally settled on wicked amusement. "Oh yeah, a prisoner of _loooove_ , that is," Ace crooned with exaggerated emphasis, laughing outright as Smoker flinched back, disgust on his face.

"Any more talk like that will get you sea-stone bracelets and a gag, brat."

Ace canted his head to the side, smiling broadly. "So kinky, old man." He shrugged carelessly, his smile widening further even as his gaze flattened slightly. "But I'm up for it if you _really_ want to give it a try…"

"What I want is for you to shut the hell up, Portgas," Smoker muttered, then sealed his mouth over the boy's so he wouldn't have to listen to any more of Portgas' sick brand of humor. This thing between them was disturbing enough without Portgas trying to make jokes at his expense. He might want the pirate with a need that ate at his gut like acid, but that didn't mean he was particularly happy about the fact. Certainly not enough to joke about it.

He knew he wouldn't need manacles to keep the brat in line as Ace released a shuddering moan into his throat at just this much contact. The only thing that made this… thing… between them bearable was that the boy seemed as helpless to resist it as he himself. Bravado was instantly abandoned to the hot, wet, slickness of need. One of the boy's hands found the back of his neck. Scraped through the short hair there as heat built between them. The warming air around them was marked by a hint of smoke.

With one hand clamped over the brat's ass, the other beneath the hat dangling against his shoulders, Smoker shifted them away from the door toward his bed. But their legs tangled and boots caught, and things went wrong -- as they always seemed to around Portgas -- and he was forced to pull his mouth away from the boy's with an annoyed twist.

So he completed the move, stepping back from Ace completely. Releasing him physically. But devouring with his gaze the gasping mouth, the faintly wild eyes, the clenching hands. Ace swayed slightly on his feet, a slight flush already darkening the skin of his chest, and gasped for breath. There was nothing but the sound of their quick breaths for a moment as the air nearly crackled between them.

"Lose the boots and get on the bed," he finally ordered.

A touch of composure returned to the dark eyes at his curt tone. A brief flare of defiance. Then a decidedly wicked grin crossed those kiss-blurred lips.

As Smoker watched, Ace skimmed his hands up his own body to strip his hat off over his head, holding on to it just long enough to claw the Log Pose off his wrist as well and drop it inside the crown for safekeeping. Then the both of them landed on the floor beside him with a thump to be kicked carefully aside.

Clever hands dropped to the broad belt and slowly started to work the buckle free. Smoker just shook his head as he shrugged out of his jacket, turning away briefly to toss it across the seat of his desk chair. But his gaze snapped back as metal jingled and he heard the sound of a zipper.

Ace was waiting for him, posing with his hands around the buttons of his shorts, the tight plane of his stomach heaving slightly with each panting breath. When he caught Smoker's gaze back on him, he drew the shorts down in one easy move to bare the lean line of his flanks. One hand roughly cupped the darkly swollen cock that sprang free, pressing its glistening tip against his lower belly as his shorts and belt thumped onto the floor around his ankles.

In two steps Smoker was beside him again, covering that hand with his, the other arm winding around the boy's neck and dragging him against his chest again. He could feel the boy's cock, sleek between the spread of his fingers, hot and eager, and felt his own surge hard in response.

"Impatient brat," he murmured, leaning down. Need only intensifying as Ace eagerly lifted his face to meet his. Mouths clashing, tongues stabbing, saliva dripping. Smoker bore him backwards a step, another, absorbed the impact of the bed against the back of Ace's knees, then followed him down as the boy collapsed onto it, their mouths still meshed. The boy dragged his hand out from under Smoker's, giving him full possession of his cock even as Smoker propped himself up with one knee beside those eagerly twisting hips. He made a low sound in his throat that was echoed by Ace as the boy's hands shifted to his belt now, clawing it open urgently.

"Slow down, boy," Smoker murmured into his mouth, pulse throbbing hot in his veins. Ace just twisted his face aside, lipping at the arm that was braced beside his head. Eyes hooded, face flushed, cock jerking eagerly in Smoker's hand.

"Why? Damn you… I've already waited all night…" the pirate groaned, fingers managing to undo the snap of Smoker's pants before falling away to clutch hard at the bed beside him when Smoker's hand squeezed his cock warningly

The boy's words strained his control. The raw longing in them firing his own need dangerously. And even as he managed to say, "Calm down, brat. I'll fuck you soon enough," he was fisting the boy's cock again, stroking it hard and slow, slick end to heated root. Watching closely as his touch made the boy's eyes screw closed, his back arch, his mouth fall open on a shuddering gasp. Did it again and again until Ace's whole body was quivering with that same tension, hands clawing desperately at Smoker's body, his hips, his shoulders again.

Smoker bent closer, letting his mouth hover above the boy's as he thumbed the slick slit of his cock, fingers flexing hard around his length. Stroking and tugging and working him swiftly closer to release without mercy. But Ace just moaned and writhed and panted in response. Seemingly helpless to deny the strength of his reaction to Smoker's touch. And for Smoker, watching the boy's flip façade shatter was nearly as heady as the feel of him slick in his hand.

"Now… want you now… inside…" Ace hissed, throat working beneath the heavy beads he still wore which had bunched up beneath his chin like a bizarre collar.

"Give me something to fuck you with then, brat," he rasped, nearly at the end of his own control. He wanted to know that tight heat again too. Craved it. "Come for me."

Ace's eyes flashed open, glaring at him. "Don't order me…" he began, only to have the words disappear in a strangled, reluctant groan as he convulsed abruptly, cock spurting hot, slick streams eagerly onto his own belly.

Smoker gave a rumble of triumph and let the still quivering cock go in order to scoop up some of the slick come. Reached beneath Ace's drawn-up balls to rub with hard fingertips over the skin beneath, making sure some of the makeshift lubricant made it down over the hole below as well.

"Finish what you started, Portgas," Smoker murmured into the boy's still-gasping mouth as he picked up one slack hand from where it had fallen to the bed beside them and guided it to the front of his pants. Felt the boy fumble obediently at the zipper as he savaged his mouth again. Hot, wet, brutal. The boy accepting the violence he dealt him without question. Even seeming to revel in it. Which only made Smoker eager for more. He sucked down the boy's gasping breaths as Ace released his cock from the binding of his pants, spreading the fabric wide and pushing it down before reaching inside his shorts to draw him out without further urging.

The boy's touch was hot, even the loose grip of his fingers nearly searing him. Despite it, Smoker had to struggle to keep himself from shoving forward into the teasing circle they made around him. Instead batting the boy's hand away to scoop up and rub the remains of his release over the swollen head and shaft himself. His own touch just familiar enough, expected enough to keep himself from coming already. Then he hooked his arm beneath one leg and spread the boy's thighs wide leaning in even closer. The dark head thrashed in response, even caught as it was in the crook of his elbow, while low, eager sounds came from the boy's throat, driving his own need dangerously higher.

He held there, straining at the limits of his control. Cock throbbing and ready, poised. But not pressing forward. Not letting it touch any part of the boy save air yet and aching for more. "You want it so bad, you put me inside you, brat," Smoker ordered huskily, arm flexing to trap Ace's head, eyes fixed on that flushed, desperate face.

The dark eyes flared open, angry gaze finding his immediately. Fury and need mixed indistinguishably, leaving his voice raw, thready. "Someday, old man…"

"Someday what, brat? You want this now -- put me inside you now."

Ace's hand found his cock unerringly. The fingers closing around him were rough but not too rough, and sure even through the slickness, guiding the head down below his own balls. The smile growing on the boy's lips faintly disturbing in it's predatory longing as he shifted himself to put the head of Smoker's cock into position.

The boy whispered huskily the while. "Oh I want this… and I want you… always… damn you, you stubborn old man… don't make me ch-…" the words breaking off abruptly into a raw gasp as the knee in Smoker's grasp twisted, the leg hooking around his hips and drawing him closer, the sole of a boot scraping his back. Pressing him in hard against that tentatively yielding entrance.

Smoker took over, releasing the leg to grab a wrist instead, pinning it to the bed beside a sweat-sheened shoulder. Braced his foot against the floor as he drove himself through the initial resistance and deep into searing heat in one slick-hard thrust. Ace rolled his hips back. His mouth wide, neck arched, hand flexing above Smoker's punishing grip on his wrist, other hand grabbing at Smoker's slick back. But accepting him willingly. Opening himself. Letting Smoker pierce him completely.

Smoker bent down and fastened his mouth on the flushed skin beneath the red beads. Felt the race of Ace's pulse beneath his tongue, his teeth as if it were his own. Felt the pulse of Ace's body around his cock like a welcome haven. Hot and firm and enthralling.

Shifted his hips without thinking then, sliding out, then back, caught up in the sensations of slick heat and perfect pressure. Listened eagerly to the gasps, the grunts, the hitches of breath that came from the boy beneath him at each thrust. Listened even more eagerly to the begging that soon followed.

"Touch me!" Heavy-lidded eyes flashed, the panting mouth fell open wide.

"Already did." Smoker let his lips twist and just thrust deeper, shutting that mouth for a few moments with a devouring kiss.

Ace wrenched his face away, panting harder, scowling. "Then let me do it!" The wrist in his grip twisted desperately, straining. He held it down easily with leverage and weight, grinding his hips in deeper on the next thrust, hard belly trapping the boy's revived cock between them tightly and stopping the boy's breath completely for an instant.

"No."

"S-selfish ba-bastard!" Ace gasped, writhing.

He bent low, their gazes locked. Mouthed his next words directly against swollen lips. "You'll come again without it, little slut. I'll make sure of that."

Ace groaned deep and shut his eyes. Surrendering. And he was saying more things to the boy then. Mouthing more promises, curses, praises against the boy's sweat-streaked skin as they moved impatiently, smoothly, mind-blowingly together. Every touch laced with fire. Every breath tinged with smoke. Ace answering him back with his body alone, voice gone, lost in the need for breath.

He changed the angle of his thrusts, back rounding, hips flexing. Driving long and hard and deep, searching. Holding grimly on to his control, knowing he'd finally hit the mark dead on when Ace stiffened and wailed, arching up against him, quivering helplessly with each subsequent thrust, a fiery hand clawing at his back dragging him into smoke and back again. Merging them even deeper. He felt the hot pulse of fresh come suddenly spurt and slick the skin between them, making him bare his teeth in silent triumph. Felt the spasms that shook the boy squeeze him even tighter around his cock in waves, making him pause, quiver in response, then shout out as his own balls surged, his mind blanked, and he let his cock shoot come deep into the pirate's body at last.

Falling onto his side after, sliding free with a groan and a gasp from Ace, before shifting onto his back and catching the boy up in his arms, dragging him atop him, limp and nearly breathless. Their ragged breathing and the slowly easing thunder of blood in his ears the only sounds he could hear for long minutes after.

Once he'd calmed his own breathing, Smoker didn't have to look to know the brat had already fallen asleep. He could feel it in the deepening slack of the other's muscles, the loose way the boy's head rolled into the hollow of his neck, nuzzling there in a fashion he probably wouldn't permit if the boy were awake. But now, body cooling, flesh still tingling, heartbeat easing, the soft snores into his skin and the loosely draped arms over his ribs were acceptable. Barely.

He shifted an arm to a slightly more comfortable position with a snort, rolling the boy even further over him, then let his own eyes close again and his body relax. Just for a little while, he told himself.

~*~*~

He woke abruptly to the sound of quiet knocking on his door. Lifted his face away from the mess of black hair tucked beneath his chin and scowled toward the doorway. Ace didn't stir.

"Yes?" he snapped, voice hoarse, his throat dry.

"Smoker-san," Tashigi called quietly. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but the galley has been holding supper for you both and it's nearly ruined. Besides, they would like to start cleaning up soon."

He lifted one hand from Ace's waist and scrubbed it over his face. Frowned as he tried to gather his unaccustomedly sleep-fogged thoughts. "How far are we from Seafoam Island?" he asked gruffly.

"Only two hours now, sir," Tashigi said, then waited patiently for Smoker's cursing to die away. Two hours from port meant he'd slept for more than four hours already -- damn the brat's influence. "Will you and Ace-san be eating in the officer's mess, or would you like me to order service for you both here instead?"

He was tempted to dump the brat on the floor right at that moment, but knew he'd squawk loudly if he did and he wanted to spare Tashigi that much embarrassment at least. So he tightened his arm around Ace's shoulders instead, glowering down at the lax face. Damned if the brat wasn't drooling on his chest in his sleep even. Smoker frowned harder and silently acknowledged that they would have to get out of his cabin if they expected to get any food into their bodies any time soon.

"You can let them know we'll both be in the officer's mess shortly," he said, his voice gone harsh again.

"Understood, sir," Tashigi said. He heard her boots shuffle slightly on the wood floor outside, then stop. "Oh. I procured a uniform shirt for Ace-san as you ordered. I'll just leave it here outside the door."

"Ah. Well done, Tashigi." He felt faintly odd suddenly, knowing this was one of the few times he'd locked his cabin door to her. Normally, he had nothing to hide from his faithful second. That added another notch to the intensity of his frown.

"Thank you, sir, I'll let the galley know your plans," she said, her voice calm. "Please don't be long. You both need to eat." Then he heard the sound of her boots fade as she walked briskly away, stumbling over her own feet only once.

Smoker turned his full attention then to boy in his arms. Who lay face-down across his chest, limp as a dead fish, lean arms draped around him, long legs tangled hopelessly in the sheets. At some point earlier, Smoker vaguely remembered stripping the rest of their clothes off – most notably their boots – and dragging the both of them more properly onto the bed and under the blankets. The brat had slept through that too. Smoker had never realized someone could sleep as hard as Portgas apparently could until now. The boy hadn't even twitched the whole time he was talking with Tashigi either; he'd been watching for it.

It didn't seem to matter what position the boy slept in either; sprawled on a chair, draped over the hull of his skiff, or laid out on a bed with his fever-warm flesh practically molded to another's body like now. Which could be amusing, Smoker supposed, if the whole idea didn't just make him want to turn the brat under him and fuck him hard until those dark eyes opened and he realized exactly _who_ he was using as a bed this time...

He dumped the boy abruptly aside into the crumpled sheets instead, then sat up and reached down to the floor for his pants. Dragged them on as Ace muttered something nearly unintelligible that was likely a curse behind him. He glanced over, expression cool. Saw that the boy was stretching on the mattress while rubbing his palms into his eyes and yawning wide. Pale cloth was wrapped tight around a golden hip and one knee, not on the same side. Smoker wondered how the boy had managed that even as he got up and went to his desk to dig out the half-smoked cigars from earlier from his jacket pocket. He stuck them in his mouth and lit them up again with a match, dragging on them deeply, welcoming their restorative essence.

"Wha? 's it mornin'?" Ace mumbled behind him.

Smoker snorted, excess smoke billowing from his mouth. "Hardly. Thought you were starving, Portgas," he said forcing a slight sneer. "It's time to eat."

"Eat?! Why didn't you say so?" Then there was a flying blur of sheet and limbs as the boy dove out of the bed for his shorts somewhere on the floor. Smoker actually had to bite back the impulse to grin at the boy's sudden eagerness. Which was disturbing.

He moved to his door, unlocked it, opened it and picked the neatly-folded white shirt up off the floor outside. Then shut the door again, tossing the fabric carelessly toward the pirate. Ace caught it nimbly, even though he was standing balanced on one foot, the other halfway into his shorts. Smoker chewed his cigars and waited, arms crossed over his chest.

The boy laughed and gestured with the shirt. "Whoa. Haven't worn one of these for a while. Guess this makes it official, huh?" He bounced himself the rest of the way into his shorts, tucking his half-hard cock into them carelessly before zipping up and buckling his belt back into place.

"Worn what, a shirt?" Smoker said, lip curling around his cigars as he reached for his own boots, then sat down in his desk chair to pull them on. Ace lifted his head. Grinned wide as he shook out the sleeveless shirt and swung it around his shoulders, shrugging into it easily.

"Nah, a Marine uniform," Ace said, rubbing a hand over his chest while looking around on the floor for his beads. He finally found them where Smoker had tossed them into the corner, tired of the way they pressed into his chest while the boy was sleeping on him, and slipped them back on over his head. "Didn't I mention the time I spent with G2? Their coffee was bitter swill... but I fixed that. Hooked them up with Mota's dairy service. Should be at least _drinkable_ swill now." His grin widened while Smoker's glare deepened.

"G2 is a Marine Intelligence station," Smoker said, straightening up abruptly from lacing his boots, his tone forbidding.

"Guess it is." Ace shrugged and plopped down on the bed again to pull his boots on too. "Got some good info on Blackbeard from them anyway. Too bad it was already a week out of date."

Smoker rose to his feet. "You walked around G2 openly? And no one recognized you?"

"Nope, but then I borrowed a uniform or two along the way. That's the problem with you Marines sometimes -- you don't look any further than the surface." The boy's reckless grin faded to a mocking smirk as Smoker stalked furiously toward him, stopping beside him to glare down at him where he sat. Forcing Ace to tip his head back to hold his gaze.

"I would have spotted you right off, Portgas," Smoker said harshly, reaching out to wind a hand in the boy's hair and wrench his head all the way back. Glared down into his face, angered and appalled by the news that this pirate brat had somehow pulled the wool over the eyes of an entire Intelligence base.

"Yeah," Ace agreed, his smile fading completely as he looked back steadily into Smoker's narrowed eyes through the haze of smoke from his cigars. "But that's one of the things that makes you different, old man."

He wasn't certain if he should take the statement as a compliment or an insult, coming from this brat, but anger still burned in his gut for the apparently rampant incompetence of the majority of the Grand Line's Marines. But he reached up with his other hand and cupped it over the hard arch of Ace's throat anyway, thumb resting on the bump of his Adam's apple. He could feel the boy's pulse throbbing steadily beneath his fingers. The dark eyes went half-lidded again as Smoker found himself staring intently at the boy's mouth. Angry with himself that he couldn't look away.

"Take those damn cigars out of your mouth and kiss me already or take me to food," Ace murmured huskily after the moment stretched too long. "I'm starved."

With a snarl Smoker finally released him, mind churning with half-remembered words uttered in the heat of passion – none of them the ones he had most wanted to hear – then turned to snatch his jacket off the chair where he'd thrown it before.

"To the mess, then," Smoker said shortly, wrenching the door open and stomping outside. More than half regretting, in his annoyance, ever having had the idea to use the pirate brat this way. He thrust his arms into his jacket sleeves as he heard Ace climb to his feet behind him with a low laugh, and assumed the boy would follow him to the food, at least.

…If no further than that.

~*~*~*~

They made port in Shimmershores a few hours later, and Smoker and Tashigi escorted both the sixteen rattled survivors and the Captain's logbook of the ill-fated _Princess Petunia_ to the local Marine detachment as soon as they landed.

Said detachment was thankfully not affiliated with Culligan's fleet in any way, and was instead run by a no-nonsense, older female Commander by the name of Kanna who had the annoying habit of calling Smoker 'sonny' and Tashigi 'darling' and stopping their discussions cold to offer to introduce his Sergeant Major to her as-yet-unmarried-but-looking-for-the-right-woman twenty-five year old son. Tashigi politely declined each offer. Repeatedly. Until Smoker was nearly ready to snarl over the delay those little asides brought. But – eventually – with Kanna's cooperation, Smoker was able to leave her offices with Eternal Poses to three of the four islands on Culligan's official patrol route, details of that self-same patrol route, and a solemn promise from Kanna that her people were already busy compiling the survivor's testimony into a solid block of evidence to back up Smoker's decision to 'chastise' Captain Culligan officially. But she would wait to report to Headquarters via Den Den Mushi until after Smoker's return to Shimmershores – just in case Culligan had a black transmission-tapping Den Den Mushi available to him on his ship.

They didn't want to inadvertently warn the bastard that Smoker was coming for him, after all.

Commander Kanna had even offered to send some of her own ships along to help in the hunt, but Smoker had declined. He was the White Hunter, after all, with a reputation to maintain. He smiled to himself. Besides, he already had an Ace in the hole.

Smugly satisfied with their progress so far, and with some of his faith in the Marines of the Grand Line restored after his encounter with Kanna, Smoker strode quickly through the streets of Shimmershores on the way back toward the harbor, Tashigi tripping along at his heels. He grinned sardonically around his cigars every step of the way back. He did find Marine Headquarters' euphemisms darkly amusing: chastise meant to execute at sea. There was far less mess that way. And less disgrace for HQ too, of course.

Which meant, since bringing Kanna into it, he had semi-official sanction to take out the filthy, corrupt bastard and his dishonest crew by any means necessary. And he had both the will and the means to do so.

"Kanna-chusa seemed most anxious to send some of her ships with us, sir," Tashigi said, puffing slightly for breath from the blistering pace he'd set on their return. But he didn't slacken his pace any, knowing she'd see that as an affront to her own stamina, besides, he was anxious to get back to the ship and make certain Ace had continued to behave himself in his absence. "Maybe it would have been best to let her join in the pursuit, Smoker-san. It _was_ her city's ship that was attacked and her citizens murdered, after all."

"That unmarried son of hers commands one of the ships she wanted to send with us, most likely," Smoker shot over his shoulder, and caught Tashigi blanching slightly, both her hands clenching tighter around her sword's scabbard where she held it in front of her chest.

"Oh? Is that so, sir? I-I didn't realize," she said, swallowing hard, but bravely not retracting her suggestion outright. "Well, perhaps it's best we continue this matter by ourselves sir, seeing as Ace-san has agreed to help us already…"

"That's what I thought you'd say," Smoker said wryly, subtly shortening his steps. "It's okay, Tashigi. She scared the crap out of me too. Women just aren't meant to have mustaches that long."

"It was rather… um… impressive, wasn't it, sir?" his so-usually-respectful Sergeant Major said with a gulp, stumbling slightly on the remarkably smooth stones of what looked to be a recently-paved plaza they were crossing. "The way it curled so high at the ends was especially…"

"No, we'll handle this situation ourselves," he interrupted gruffly before Tashigi could perjure herself further, chewing hard on his cigars and startling other pedestrians out of their way with the force of his glower. "And if Portgas makes himself useful for once, so much the better. The sooner that brat's off my hands the happier I'll be."

Tashigi walked beside him in silence then, her expression faintly troubled for some reason. But Smoker ignored her mood now that she'd fallen silent and focused on reaching the ship -- and the pirate who should have been his prisoner but who was instead waiting for him loose in his cabin.

~*~*~*~

He should have used the manacles after all.

Smoker came to an abrupt halt at the top of the brow, feet spreading wide, fists going to hips, and glared across the deck of his warship toward a cluster of laughing sailors gathered on the far side. Tashigi, who hadn't been paying full attention, ran straight into his back. She bounced off the immovable surface with a whuff of surprise and barely caught her footing with the help of the lifeline that surrounded the top of the ramp.

"Smoker-san…w-what?" she said, hurriedly adjusting her glasses which had been knocked askew by the impact. But by then she had caught sight of the group on the far side of the deck as well. And the sound that left her then was an odd, strangled cross between a laugh and a gulp that she barely managed to smother behind her hand.

Smoker was already shifting and grinding his cigars between his teeth, narrow glare fastened on the distinctive black hat that marked just exactly who was in the center of the jostling, laughing, and far too damn _friendly_ , group of Marines who were slacking off from their duties over there.

"Now, now, gentlemen, there's no hurry," Ace was saying, his trademark broad grin prominent as he held up his hands, palms out in front of him, a good number of belli notes folded between each finger. He was still wearing the sleeveless uniform shirt Tashigi had brought for him – but unbuttoned –, and the broad-brimmed hat was definitely not Marine standard issue. Nor were the precariously low-slung black shorts. He looked nothing like a Marine. "And the distance is doubled for this round… so who wants to take Seto this time? C'mon, guys he's your nakama!"

The shouts and friendly jeers let Smoker and Tashigi know that the odds, apparently, weren't in Seto's favor… whatever kind of odds they might be. Seto himself was standing at the rail near Ace, his rifle draped in his arms, his expression set and determined. As Seto was the best shot on their ship, it appeared that some kind of target shooting contest was in progress – complete with illegal side betting. Tashigi darted a cautious glance at her captain's face, trying to gauge his mood. Smoker caught her look from the corner of his eye as he angrily considered if it would be easier to just toss Portgas over the railing and let him drown on his own or if he should hold his head under to make sure.

"Portgas!" Smoker bellowed loud enough to rattle the rigging before stalking across the deck toward the cluster of men, while his eyes narrowed with fury on only one of them. "What the hell do you think you're running on my ship?!"

The men around him immediately blanched and fell back, looking chastened and guilty and alarmed. But the damn brat's head just snapped around and he grinned cheekily across the deck toward him. Portgas let his upraised hand, still filled with cash, settle down on the crown of his hat, his elbow poking out gracelessly as he waved wildly at them with the other. "Oi! Back already are you old man?" The dark eyes glittered wickedly at him for a moment before the punk transferred his careless smile blatantly to Tashigi. "Ne, Tashigi-san… want in on the action? Seto's got something to prove now…"

"What the _fucking hell_ are you doing out on deck, pirate?" Smoker raged as he stalked forward, not even really noticing the way the other men shrank from his path, too intent on wiping that far too reckless smile off Portgas' face as soon as possible to care. "I damn well ordered you to stay in my cabin while we're in port, you insubordinate brat!"

"Smoker-taisa! Smoker-taisa!" Tashigi called, stumbling frantically up beside him, her hand clawing at his elbow as she tried to steady herself and still keep pace with him. "It seems that Seto's honor is at stake here _for everyone to see_ , sir! _Sir!_ "

Her words registered, but only barely. His stalking advance halted only when she dashed in front of him, her arms spread wide, her expression worried. He spared her only the briefest of glances, but the glimpse of acute distress on her face was enough to break his single-minded focus on Ace. For the moment. "Smoker-san… we're in the harbor still…" she added urgently in hushed tones when he paused, her shuttered gaze darting significantly past him toward the busy docks below, the bars and hangouts of the streets above, and the crowded decks of the other ships moored beyond their ship. Where throngs of the curious and the jaded and the critical were doubtless already gathered at gunwales and railings to watch the show.

Smoker caught Ace's gaze from around Tashigi's head. Held it. Was aware of little then beyond the infuriating gleam of teasing satisfaction that danced there, mixed with traces of something darker and less readable that made the tenor of his pulse shift perilously. But despite that, it was clear to Smoker that the little shit was laughing at him for his reaction. The air hazed around him for a moment as he struggled to retain his human shape and not fray into smoke in order to bypass the barrier of Tashigi. Held onto his control so tightly mainly because Portgas so clearly wanted him to lose it.

"What's this, Seto?" Smoker managed to grind out after a few anxious hearts had stuttered among the crew waiting tensely around him. "Don't tell me you're losing in a shooting match with this brat?"

"Taisa!" Seto said, snapping briskly to attention, his expression both relieved and determined. "It was a challenge I accepted willingly, sir!"

In that moment, Smoker wasn't sure what infuriated him more; that Ace had disobeyed him and made his questionable presence aboard public knowledge in this iffy port town, or that Ace had so easily charmed his men – even Seto – into relaxing and accepting that same presence enough to engage in games with him. But whose fault was that? Who had let the pirate brat run free in the first place? Smoker had little problem accepting responsibility for this cock-up. But that didn't stop him from thinking bitterly that he should have just chained the brat to his bed before he left – or thrown him back into the brig.

Portgas was congenitally unable to follow orders, it seemed… at least his orders. The idea cooled his rage with shocking speed, turning it to a lump of ice in his gut. Disgusted more with himself now, Smoker took a half step back at last, and forced his hands to relax from fists. But Tashigi didn't relax her own pose until he lifted one up to pull his cigars from his mouth and blow out a slow stream of thick, white smoke into the air.

"Explain this whole challenge to me," Smoker said gruffly, his narrow gaze flickering toward Ace's again for a moment, then back to his first officer's. "And then hurry up and kick his ass at it so we can get underway."

Seto saluted him briskly then opened his mouth to begin, while beyond him, Ace just threw back his head and laughed.

~*~*~*~

Smoker tossed the black hat roughly aside and buried both hands deep in wind-tangled black hair. Pressed back until he had trapped the other's lean body securely between his own and the inside of his cabin door. Held the boy's head locked in place against the polished teak. Hard and close. Close enough to feel the hitching rise of the brat's ribs and the quickening pulse of blood beneath sleek skin.

Smoker glared down at his captive. Into heavy-lidded black eyes that lifted to meet his gaze without hesitation or apology or fear. The ship was underway beneath them, riding a beam wind and the late afternoon swell through the last of this summer island's climate zone. The port of Shimmershores had fallen quickly into the distance behind them as the hunt for Culligan finally began.

He was still angry.

Trying to order him below in the commotion after the shooting contest was finally finished and before they left harbor had been futile. He suspected that Ace had allowed Seto to win, to salve the man's pride, but the crew had been jubilant over their officer's come-from-behind win. The brat had taken the loss well, Smoker conceded, but that hadn't made him any happier when Ace had just shrugged when told to return to his cabin, then sauntered out of the steering deck where he'd followed Smoker in the first place only to run up the rigging with a whoop with the rest of the sailors when the order was given to unfurl sail.

The boy made himself useful with the crew, then, working lines, making jokes to lighten their initial uncertainty but winning them over the rest of the way with his knowledgeable willingness to lend a hand at the difficult task of setting full sail. Proving adept at following the orders he was given the while.

But when the work was finally done, and even with the rigging groaning alarmingly from the weight of full sail around him, he'd found a perch atop the mast. Refusing to be caged. Recklessly balancing on the royal yards by one hand and foot after the topgallant sail was set, other hand clamped over his hat as he stared down their course, Ace smiled wide in that infuriatingly carefree way of his and whooped loudly again simply for, it seemed, the joy of the wind across his shoulders and the sun in his face. Apparently heedless of the possibility of a misstep that would mean a fatal plunge to the pitiless sea below.

Smoker had caught more than one of his men stealing looks at the pirate perched up there, startled or amused or even envious looks on their faces. But as captain he'd been far too busy plotting potential intercept courses and assessing possible ambush sites with Tashigi and his navigator to drag the brat down and force him below. Until now.

"You were _seen_ , Portgas," Smoker muttered fiercely, his banked fury resurging, tinted now by a dark edginess. And how many more had seen him – so primal and reckless and wanton – up on the mast like that?

"Chill, old man. I'm your prisoner, aren't I?" The boy's mouth twisted in a wry grin. "Besides, if the Marines do get stupider than usual and kick you out, I know a certain pirate captain who could probably be persuaded to take you in…"

Smoker growled low in his throat, bristling, his fingers flexing against skull ominously. "I swear if you say 'Whitebeard' I'll snap your neck, brat."

"No way!" Ace laughed, eyes dancing despite the threat. "I meant Luffy, of course."

His pulse settled some, but still throbbed far too quickly in his veins. "Straw-hat..." Smoker growled again. "That little fool's hardly better."

Ace's smile faded instantly, his expression going colder even as flames licked through the darkness of his eyes. "Careful, Marine. That's my little brother you're talking about."

"Don't want talk," Smoker said, bending his head closer to the boy's, intent on those elusive flickers. The words coming out of his mouth inconsequential as he watched that fire slowly rise, heating him. "You're making a paperwork nightmare for me, Portgas. I don't like it."

"Paperwork?" That startled another, more honest laugh from the boy, the breath from it washing warm across Smoker's throat, into his chest as his hands rose from his sides and finally slipped themselves around Smoker's waist. "You're fucked in the head, you know that old man? Why the hell would I care about your damn paperwork...?"

Smoker dropped down abruptly and covered Ace's mouth with his. Held still for a moment, lips meshed but unmoving, and just breathed the sharp-bright scent of the boy in. Sun-heated skin. Wind-freshened hair. Caught lurking beneath those scents hints of sweat and musk and Smoker's own scent. Just as he'd left him. Satisfaction swept through him. Possessive and fierce. He leaned in closer then, deepening the caress, his hands fisting harder in the thick, tousled hair.

Felt Ace surge up into him regardless of the pressure, the brutal tug. Making soft, greedy sounds in his throat the while; hands clutching at Smoker's bare back beneath his coat now, fingertips digging in.

Demanding. Needing. Wanting.

Smoker broke the kiss with an impatient sound, but only to drag his mouth across the sharp chin and down to the working throat below. Tasted fire-bright life in the pulse there, urgent need intertwined with the clean wash of sea air. Ace was vital and alive and filled with a fundamental joy he could only catch haunting glimpses of through emotions blunted by years of disappointment and betrayal. But the longing inspired him to sink his teeth firmly into taut tendon and wrap his lips close around straining flesh. To savor the sharp gasp and the immediate upward thrust of lean hips into his own in response.

Their attraction was the same. Without sense or accountability. It simply was. Elemental and essential like their complimenting Devil Fruit powers themselves; dangerous and utterly unexplainable to those without. But as Ace arched his body closer, one leg winding impatiently around Smoker's hips, there was no shift into fire, no answering blur to smoke. Only their hips pressed together almost painfully, both already heavy with need. And as Ace's head was drawn back by Smoker's relentless grasp to bare his throat like that of a blood sacrifice… the last of Smoker's reason fled.

Restraint vanished with it. Boiled away in the touch and taste and scent of the fire-flicker being in his arms. He needed, he wanted; he would take.

Ace only moaned harder when he marked his skin, shuddering slightly between his imprisoning arms. It was a heady, wanton sound. Smoker shifted his own feet wider, thighs spreading, body sinking down even closer. Sliding chest over chest. Thigh against thigh, in and around and against. Mouth moving down as well, until his nose was nudging the heavy strand of beads aside impatiently to find the dip of skin at the collarbone before skipping over to the thick bulge of shoulder muscle. He mouthed sweat-salty skin along the way. Barely resisting the urge to sink his teeth in at every point, but just dragged them over sun-reddened skin instead.

"Ungh… fuck! Wait!" Ace gasped. He felt the boy's arms move, press between them, push back at him with all the surprising strength that lean form contained. Strong and insistent enough to break his lock on the boy's flesh after a moment. Annoyed he glared down into the flushed face.

"What? Getting coy?"

Ace's eyes were closed as he panted, mouth open, head still trapped. But he smiled after a moment, lips curving, a pink tongue darting out to trace them carefully. "No… I want to suck you, old man," he said, eyes flickering open to catch Smoker's intent gaze. "I want your taste… in my mouth…"

Heat flared, blanking thought. Without another word, Smoker spun them both around and dragged Ace over to the side of the bed. Wanting it handy for what would come later. Forced the boy to his knees there, one hand still fisted in black hair, Ace's hands clutching at his waist, his belt as he sank down to the floor.

Smoker stared down into the boy's upturned face now near his fly. Decided it was a good place for him. Very good. Ace's hands slid down from his belt, curling over the rock-hard length beneath the front of his pants, his faintly swollen mouth curving in a pleased, anticipatory way. Smoker's blood raced faster, his breath caught despite himself. "I'll let you suck my dick now, pirate," he murmured, voice little more than a low rumble in his chest. "And then I'll fuck you until you forget your own name..."

"Good thing I have the tat then," Ace whispered, nimble fingers working Smoker's belt open.

~*~*~*~

In the end, Culligan's fleet was ridiculously easy to find. On the second day of the hunt, the Swift Arrow Fleet's sails came into view off a series of small atolls an island away from where the Princess Petunia had been scuttled, the fleet already on course back in the direction of Seafoam Island. Culligan was following their stated patrol pattern, still attempting to maintain the fiction that his was an honest Marine fleet.

The bastard's fleet even hailed Smoker's ship in a friendly way and behaved with perfect normality the while; until they drew within firing range.

That first volley Smoker deflected with his power, creating a thick wedge of smoke that sent the cannonballs hurtling away harmlessly into the sea far beyond his ship. The second and third hit only sea as well, deflected in the same fashion. Then Ace leaped into his skiff and sped away toward the far side of the fleet in a dramatic flare of fire, as agreed, a perfect diversion. Cannon fire paused, then quickly adjusted to pursue him as well.

It was obvious that somehow Culligan had been warned. Possibly by an accomplice posted in Shimmershores. The same one who had carefully selected the prosperous yet relatively defenseless Princess Petunia for ransacking most likely, Smoker concluded grimly as he ordered his men to arm for close-quarters battle.

The approaching fleet had seven ships in all, including Culligan's own grand warship that skulked at the rear. As Smoker and Tashigi battled their way through the other ships, straight to Culligan's side, Ace on his tiny skiff was a terror, skimming among the larger ships with ease. Dodging, distracting, then striking; his Fire Fist blooming with destructive force at waterline after waterline. Three ships were already foundering around them, their sails ablaze, when Smoker reached Culligan's flagship amid heavy fire.

Grappling lines flew from his far smaller ship to the gunwales of the behemoth carrying boarding nets. Sealing their ships together. Smoker carried a set of lines across himself in a billowing arc of smoke as Tashigi hastily readied their men to follow; the Sergeant Major taken slightly off guard by her Captain's keenness to engage the enemy.

He materialized on the main deck amid Culligan's heavily armed crew, hands in fists at his side, booted feet spread wide, cigars gripped tightly between his teeth.

"Captain Emil Culligan!" he bellowed. "By my authority as Captain of the Marines, I, Smoker the White Hunter, hereby strip you of all powers and rights as a Marine officer and order you to surrender immediately and answer to the charges of murder, gross misconduct and piracy of the Princess Petunia! Resistance will imply guilt, Culligan! Surrender or die! Any Marine of this crew who lays down his weapon and surrenders quietly will be judged separately! Stand down _now_ or die!"

No weapons dropped. He glared at the men surrounding him. Some of them shifted nervously, perhaps recognizing his name, or perhaps just alarmed by his obvious devil fruit ability, but they still didn't put down their weapons.

"Fools, do you want to die that badly?" he snarled. "If you're running in fear of Culligan, I'm here to _end_ it."

Finally, a weapon dropped in the back. Then another. But most held firm. Idiots. He wouldn't take it easy on them just because they wore the Marine uniform – especially not. He reached slowly over his shoulder for his jitte, gaze flickering around darkly, noting faces.

Beyond the deck in the distance he saw yet another ship of the fleet's sails flare into raging fire. Heard the battle cries of Tashigi and his own men approaching behind him as they clambered up the boarding nets. Some of Culligan's men around him began to open fire on him then, but he was smoke and the shots passed through him harmlessly.

"Culligan! Show yourself!"

Through the ultra-fine net of smoke-particles that he'd cast across the deck, he sensed something approaching him that wasn't a bullet and dodged to the side. The deck where he'd been standing hissed wildly and began to dissolve beneath a bubbling puddle of livid yellow goo.

Powerful acid; from the Isan Isan Devil Fruit. Culligan at last.

"I'm here, Smoker the Reject," a tall man in full Marine dress whites with a blade-like nose and shockingly pale blue eyes said scornfully from where he leaned on the forecastle railing above. "What idiot allowed you to leave your well-deserved perpetual exile in Loguetown, White Hunter? Or did East Blue finally run out of small fry for you to bully and you came back here to try your luck with the best again?" Smoker noted the man had a myriad of small golden hoop earrings lining the edges of each ear well up into the cartilage and half a dozen thin golden rings banding each finger. His hair was a deep glossy green, like kelp. All of it matched the description Commander Kanna had given him. This was definitely Culligan.

"You know why I'm here," Smoker said, drawing his jitte off his back and holding it low and balanced behind him in a loose grip, ready for use.

Culligan just shrugged, his lips curving in a confident smile. "I know why you _think_ you're here, you Grand Line reject, and I'll make you pay for damaging my fleet. And I know that pirate out there who you apparently think you've tamed as well – or did he not share that critical little fact with you even after you were done fucking him?" The other's smile widened as Smoker's lip lifted in a silent snarl. "He's a pretty little whore that Ace, isn't he? Quite eager to serve that filthy pirate captain of his… no matter what his orders are."

"I don't care about your claims," Smoker snapped, blood trying to throb faster in his veins after hearing Ace's name fall so casually from the other man's mouth, but they were already mostly smoke. He lifted his jitte and pointed it unwaveringly at the face of the man above him. "I'm here to bring you down, Culligan. Innocents died because of you. The rest of this is just bullshit word games."

"Oh, so you don't care that your lovely boy-toy out there has already serviced half my fleet?" Culligan sneered. "Or that he'd gladly do it again if his _real_ Captain ordered him to? He has such _amazing_ stamina, doesn't he, our Ace?"

Seething, primal rage filled Smoker, nearly blinding him. He controlled himself by the thinnest of margins, part of him aware that it was Culligan's plan to draw him out this way in order to make him careless. "Fuck you, Culligan," he spat anyway, "I'm bringing you down."

"You're welcome to try, reject," Culligan sneered, but Smoker was already moving toward him as a seething column of smoke with all the speed of a striking snake. Culligan barely dove aside in time, throwing up a spray of yellow liquid as a shield. Smoker bounced off it, mostly unharmed, but was unable to penetrate the stinging fluid even as smoke. He mentally shifted tactics without pause.

He swung his jitte, scattering the shield briefly. Culligan shouted in surprise. Smoker bared his teeth in a battle snarl and charged in with the sea-stone tip forward. Watched those icy eyes widen in sudden horrified shock as Culligan realized exactly what kind of weapon he wielded even as a devil fruit user.

Culligan dodged the blow by dissolving through the deck beneath him in a hissing splash, semi-liquid body spraying yellow acid wide. Droplets of acid passed through Smoker's billows in stinging arcs as they both fell into the space below, but didn't slow him down. Harsh fumes from melted wood and dissolving metal filled the air around them.

They faced off in the darkened room silently. Both unfazed by the toxic air. Smoker immune as was Culligan as well, apparently. But for the first time Culligan's unwarranted confidence seemed shaken. His gaze stayed fixed on the jitte held in Smoker's nebulous hands in horror.

"How can you stand to use it yourself?!" Culligan hissed, his lip curling in blatant disgust.

"Practice," Smoker snarled. And launched himself at Culligan again. Feinting left with a smoke-backed fist while slashing his jitte through yet another acid-spray shield thrown out by a flailing hand. The other man howled in agony as the jitte ripped through both shield and the hand behind it, laying open flesh instead of acid as the sea-stone cancelled out the devil fruit's power on contact with his wildly fluctuating body.

Culligan staggered away across the smoking deck, swearing, gasping in pain and holding his bleeding hand close to his chest protectively. Glaring at Smoker as he groped for the wall behind him, looking for a way to escape.

"All talk, are you?" Smoker sneered around his cigars. "Disappointing." He advanced again. As expected, Culligan tried to burn through the wall behind him, to escape again, scattering acid in streams everywhere around him as desperate distraction, but Smoker stopped him halfway through the wall with a punishing smoke-grip around his chest. Ignoring the rapidly building burn in his ephemeral self as Culligan spewed even more acid from his skin in a desperate attempt to break free. Smoker just lifted the other man high in the air and whipped the sea-stone tip of the jitte across his face. Blood and teeth and acid flew.

It took only three more powerful blows before the acid stopped flowing and the braggart was a limp mess in his grasp. In the meantime, spatter had burned holes in the walls, the deck and everything else around him. Foul-colored smoke filled the room. He shook the crumpled form, searching for any lingering signs of resistance. Found none. Grinned ferally in satisfaction.

The slowly widening acid-burned holes in the walls allowed him glimpses of the deck outside and the pitched battle still going on between his crew and Culligan's. Shouts and screams and battle cries echoed everywhere. Pools of blood marred the deck.

His crew were holding their own, but they were definitely outnumbered. Even with Tashigi at their head. So Smoker threw Culligan's body toward one of the weaker looking spots in the wall, a grim twist of a smile curving his lips as the wall exploded outwards and the formerly arrogant Marine Captain fell into the middle of his men, a beaten bloody mess.

Combatants on both sides froze for a moment of breathless shock. The wider eyes of Culligan's crew fixed on the crumpled form of their captain in disbelief. Apparently unable to grasp that their terrifying captain had gone down so quickly.

Smoker stalked outside after his prey, head high, cigars in teeth, smoke roiling in angry billows from beneath his coat, making certain the blood-drenched jitte was slung prominently over his shoulder, ready for use.

"Surrender now!" he roared. "Your captain is defeated!"

He caught a glimpse of Tashigi panting and frowning from behind a swath of bodies surrounding her, the upper sleeve of her coat stained with blood, one arm limp at her side. Saw Seto too, pistols in hand, blood on his face, teeth bared. Saw his men protectively surrounding their officers, fighting their hardest, bloodied but unbowed.

Then he looked beyond the deck to where the rest of Culligan's ships burned. Ace had been hard at work too. As agreed. Thought of the boy brought Culligan's words to his mind again, and his glare narrowed in fury.

Culligan's men saw the look and panicked. Arms began to fall onto the deck in a great ringing clatter now. His men quickly moved to secure their counterparts, Tashigi and Seto giving orders for capture left and right.

And suddenly – far too soon – it was over. And the ugly clean-up work began.

Culligan was beaten. His fleet destroyed. Smoker waited for satisfaction to claim him. For the heady flush of fulfillment for seeing Justice done and innocents avenged.

Oddly, it didn't come. Or at least not as strongly as he'd expected. He felt… hollow. Suspended in the moment. Waiting.

Then a wave of heat washed over him.

Smoker looked up, hand fisting on his jitte. Found Ace standing tall on the railing beyond, bare chest gleaming in the flicker of the fires around them. One hand on his hat, the other gripping his knapsack, retrieved from Smoker's own cabin, where the strap was slung over his bare shoulder. The white Marine uniform shirt already long discarded.

"Looks like you got your man," Ace said quietly, nodding. Smoker frowned. Didn't even glance toward the battered body that lay near his feet.

"Did you know him?" Smoker heard himself say. His voice tight. Saw something flicker in the boy's gaze. A hint of regret? Shame? Discomfort? But the look was gone before he could be sure, replaced with that old mocking, cool distance again.

Ace shrugged. "Whitebeard had dealings with him once or twice."

Smoker stalked across the blood-washed deck toward him then, gloved hand flexing on the grip of his jitte. Aware of the sting of acid burns on his skin now, the pin-point holes in his jacket, the ache of the battle's aftermath in his muscles. But it all faded before the heat of anger that flared inside him.

"And yet you still told me about him…" Smoker said, voice harsh, throat raw.

Ace's expression didn't change as he approached. His dark gaze somber now, his cheeky grin absent. "So I did, Taisa."

But before Smoker could reach him, Ace was over the side with a backwards flip. Smoker charged the rail, leaning over to see that the boy had landed square on his skiff waiting below. Ace slung his duffel bag against the base of the tiny excuse for a mast, then tipped his head back to look up the side of Culligan's ship, knocking his hat so that it hung loose down his back, an upraised hand shading his eyes.

"We made a pretty good team, didn't we, old man?" the boy called, his voice oddly hushed. Smoker brutally stilled the sudden urge that made him want to leap over the railing after the boy and press his sea-stone jitte to his throat. Take away his power and force him to stay. In his bed, beside him. But that would be no less a prison than the sea-stone cell in the hold below for this fire-flicker man. "So who was it exactly who decided we can't…" But Ace stopped himself before he finished the sentence, eyes glittering fiercely up at Smoker.

He recognized the needy look in the boy's eyes by the echo in his own gut. And knew it didn't make a shred of difference even as an unwelcome something that was part pain, part regret welled inside him. Not in this era. Not in this world. Not for a Marine and a pirate, locked on opposite sides by their very natures. It could never be. Was that justice? He didn't know anymore. But the pursuit of justice was all he had to fall back on.

"We go back to the same old thing," he forced himself to say, coldly, watching the heated recklessness in the boy's eyes flicker after a moment and begin to fade, banked by lowering lids. His hands gripped the railing in front of him tighter. He couldn't let go of it now or else… "Pirate against Marine. Just keep going, Portgas. Keep walking your path -- and I'll walk mine."

He waited. Watched. And absolutely was not rendered breathless by something he couldn't, wouldn't name. Not at all.

The dark eyes lifted one last time. Flashed bright before the brim of the hat being settled back into place sealed them away. Then, without answering, flame roared beneath braced feet and the skiff leaped forward, fast and smooth, cutting easily across the low morning swell as it headed for the horizon.

Smoker stood at the railing, cigars smoldering, hands fisted at his sides. And didn't watch the horizon.

\-- end --

 
    
    
    Shala la  
    (from: King of Bandit Jing ED)  
    Performed by: Scudelia Electro  
    Translated by: stranger from http://www.waxinlyrical.com/index.html  
    (spell check by: paxnirvana)
    
    Shala la, la lalala la, lala, lala la
    
    It's just the same old thing  Just blowing through it all, like always  
    The rumors of the wind, and the leftover embers.  
    When you're holding sorrow in your arms, to whom do you give it to?  
    I'm weeping my heart out here, but you wouldn't have any cause to know why.
    
    Shala la, la lalala la, lala, lala la
    
    It's just the same old thing, isn't it?  To just keep on walking, from who knows when  
    An anonymous author, and this path I'm on  
    So who was it exactly that decided that was something we couldn't convey to others?  
    Just so I could convey it to you, I've scattered my body throughout the wind
    
    Shala la, la lalala la, lala, lala la
    
    The songs disappear into the wind  The world goes by in a sibilant whisper  
    Yet again, words of love and such  Pass on by, even as the days do  
    The songs disappear into the wind  In the thousands  
    So good night, and sleep well,  
    with dreams that we'll meet again one day  
    The songs disappear into the wind  The world goes by in a sibilant whisper  
    Yet again, words of love and such  Pass on by, even as the days do
    
    Shala la, la lalala la, lala, lala la
    
     


End file.
